I feel daunted.

The polarity between Sylvia and I has been reversing, ever since I let her down with the group project. It’s been reversing in more ways than one.

Of course I’m happy about that! Change is what I wanted, change is what I got. It wasn’t fair for my friend to live in my shadow, the nerdy second fiddle to the contrarian gal that always looks out for number one and nothing else. This is a much better arrangement.

Only…

Sometimes it feels like I’m in her shadow, now. That’s not a bad thing, of course, not a bad thing at all, selflessness is about putting other people in the spotlight, right? Their wants and needs come first.

Besides, every time I question this, the mist closes in… preeetty colors, glimmering, shimmering, soothing me…

But I can’t unsee it. The polarity between us is reversing. I’m orbiting Syl now, not the other way around.

That’s not the only polarity shift we’ve gone through. When we started talking about my decision to radically change my life, Sylvia was the one trying to convince me that something was amiss. Now, she seems more than happy to go with the flow. And while I started out perfectly convinced that everything was normal, now I feel this sense of…

Wrongness?

Whatever it is I’m feeling, it’s not mutual: Sylvia herself seems perfectly at ease with our new arrangement. A secret between friends. Me, being nice to her (long overdue). I suppose that so long as she’s happy with things, then I shouldn’t put too much stock into this odd feeling of wrongness.

I’m just helping out my best friend.

"Say, Pheebs" she says suddenly. "I’ve been thinking. You know, about the next dare."

I find myself shifting uncomfortably in my seat. At once, it’s like I can’t look at her, and can’t look away from her. Her presence is so imposing, like she’s the room’s center of gravity.

"Um, yeah, do tell Syl. But you know I don’t think these dares are entirely necessary," I say in a mumble.

Sylvia doesn’t pay that any mind. She’s tapping a finger against the edge of her bed in mock contemplation.

"Well, let's see. You've already serviced Derek alone, and then you took care of him and his friends all together. And they haven’t picked up your offer of a second foursome yet, so you have a free schedule. So, in the interest of fairness… I think it's high time you also offered some individual attention to Marty and Tyler. Don't you agree?"

My eyes widen, and I swallow hard. "Um, I… I guess that makes sense?" I say, though it comes out more like a question than a statement.

Sylvia shakes her head, clearly amused. "Totally. It makes total sense. It’s what I want, and besides, I’m sure it would make them very happy. It’s just the selfless thing to do, you know?"

I nod my head, because of course it is. I did agree that my new job would be to make her happy. I did tell her I’d do whatever she wanted. If I tried to weasel out now, what would that say about me? I’d be a terrible friend.

"So," Sylvia says, her tone turning more conspiratorial, "here's the plan. You're gonna go up to Marty first, and then to Tyler, and ask them what their deepest sexual fantasy is. Then, you're gonna fulfil it. Oh, and you'll film yourself, of course. To show me later."

I feel my cheeks flush hot with embarrassment at Sylvia's words. Ask them their deepest fantasy? Fulfill it? And film myself doing it? The old me would have told Sylvia exactly where she could shove that idea. But the new me…

"Um, okay," I find myself saying meekly. "If that's what you want me to do, Syl."

She grins wickedly. "Oh, it definitely is. This is going to be hilarious. I can't wait to see the videos later."

I nod numbly. "When do you want me to do it?"

"No time like the present!" Sylvia says. "Go find Marty now. He’s usually at the library right now, I’ve met him a few times when studying there myself. Corner him in there and make his day."

A lesser friend would stand her ground, would refuse, would come up with some excuse. But that’s not the person I’ve decided I must be, and so I stand up, gathering my things, ready to march to the library right now.

Anything for my bestie.

"This is just too precious," Sylvia says, shaking her head again. "You're such a good friend, Phoebe. I'm really curious to see just how far your selflessness can go…"

***

Sylvia was right.

She usually is, I guess. I should have started listening to her long ago. Instead, I just pushed the envelope, tested the boundaries, bucked and caused her so many issues over the years.

I let her down so many times.

Well, better late than never. At least now I know just how much value there is in listening to her, and in prioritizing her needs.

Marty is sitting at a solitary table in a secluded corner of the library’s third floor. It’s empty right now, though there’s enough students on the lower floors that there’s no guarantee it will stay this way. He hasn’t spotted me — his head is buried in a book.

“Hi, Marty,” I say, trying to sound casual. “Got a minute?”

He widens when he spots me, then looks around, as if expecting someone to rescue him. Poor thing, he’s really not used to getting female attention, is he? Sylvia’s dare is looking better by the minute, to be honest. I’m about to make him feel better about himself. How could that possibly be a bad thing?

It takes him a while, but Marty nods slowly. “Sure, Phoebe. What’s up?”

I take a seat across from him. The wooden chair scrapes the floor as I get in closer, leaning forward. He closes his book, but his hands fidget with the cover, flipping it open and shut.

“I wanted to talk to you about… something,” I start. How do I even phrase this? “About last time. With Derek and Tyler.”

His eyes widen even further behind his glasses. I didn’t think that was possible. “Y-yeah?”

I take a deep breath. “You did great, you know. I mean, considering everything. I just wanted to see if you had any… thoughts.”

He swallows hard. “Thoughts?”

“Like, if there’s something you’d want to try. A fantasy or something. Maybe you’d like to fuck my pussy this time?”

I almost asked if he’s ever done that before. During the foursome, Tyler said, he hasn’t been getting any, but I’m not sure if that was meant to imply he was a virgin, or just that he hadn’t had sex in a long time before I sucked his cock.

Either way, it doesn’t really matter. It wouldn’t do to bring that up out loud. It would just stoke his feeling of inadequacy, the opposite of what I want.

Marty blinks at me, his mouth hanging open slightly. He seems stunned into silence by my blunt proposition. I can practically see the gears turning in his head as he tries to process what I've just said.

"Um, wow, Phoebe," he stammers at last. "That's, uh, quite an offer."

I smile at him reassuringly. "It's okay, Marty. You can tell me what you want. I'm here to make you feel good."

He swallows again, his Adam's apple bobbing nervously. "Well, I really enjoyed what you did last time. With your mouth, I mean. It was… incredible."

I nod, understanding. The blowjob clearly left an impression on him. Whether for purely physical reasons or because of the surrounding circumstances, I don’t really know. "You'd like me to do that again?"

"Y-yeah," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "If that's okay with you."

"Of course it is," I say. "I'm happy to."

I pause for a moment, remembering Sylvia's instructions. "There's just one thing… would it be alright if I filmed it? I won’t show your face, I promise. It would just be for, um, personal use."

Marty looks at me like I’ve just grown a second head, but he seems to settle surprisingly quickly. I think he’s actually excited by the prospect. "You want to film it?"

I nod, biting my lip. "If you're okay with that."

"Uh, yeah, sure," he says. "So long as you send me the video later."

I smile at him. That would be such a selfless thing to do! "Great. Let's get started then, shall we?"

I glance around the library, making sure no one is nearby. Then, I slip out of my chair and crawl under the table. It's a tight fit, but I manage to position myself between Marty's legs.

I hear his sharp intake of breath above me as I reach for his zipper. The sound of it being pulled down seems impossibly loud in the quiet of the library. I tug his jeans and boxers down just enough to free his already hardening cock.

I pull out my phone and open the camera app. I angle it to get a good view of my face and hit record.

I lean in and run my tongue along the underside of his shaft. Marty lets out a shuddering breath. I circle the tip with my tongue before wrapping my lips around him and sucking gently.

I take my time, lavishing Marty's cock with attention. My lips glide up and down his shaft as my tongue swirls and laps at the sensitive tip. I try not to overstimulate him, though. He didn’t last much the first time, which of course is no problem for me, but he might feel bad about it, and that’s the last thing I want.

Above me, Marty is struggling to keep quiet. His breathing is ragged and I can hear the occasional soft moan escape his lips. His thighs tremble on either side of my head.

I keep my lips sealed tightly around him as I suck harder, cheeks hollowing. I can feel his cock throbbing, pulsing against my tongue. His hips twitch, like he's fighting the urge to thrust.

"Phoebe…" he says, barely audible. "I'm gonna… Phoebe, I'm…" Marty gasps out a warning.

I pull back slightly so just the tip remains between my lips. Then, I start rapidly flicking my tongue against the head, until finally his cock yields to the stimulation and I bring Marty over the edge.

His hips do jerk this time as he releases spurt after spurt of cum into my mouth. I keep my lips sealed around the tip, sucking gently, milking every drop as he rides out his climax.

When he's spent and starting to soften, I release him gently and tuck him back into his jeans. I stop the recording on my phone and crawl out from under the table.

Marty is slumped back in his chair, face flushed, eyes glazed. He looks completely stunned, like he can't quite believe what just happened.

"That was amazing," he breathes out after a moment. "Even better than last time… thank you."

I smile and shrug like it's no big deal, even as a blush colors my own cheeks. "I'm glad you enjoyed it. And don't worry, I'll send you the video later like I promised."

He nods, still seemingly in a post-orgasmic haze. I gather my things and stand up to leave.

"See you around, Marty," I say with a wink. Then I turn and head out of the library, pleased with myself for being such a good friend.

One item checked off Sylvia's dare list. Now, on to Tyler…

***

I feel weird.

Making Marty's day felt good, which isn’t surprising. Apparently, making other people happy is the best, most blissful feeling in the world.

But I also can't shake the feeling that this is all very… odd. The old me would never have done something like this.

Then again, the old me was a miserable asshole of a girl, and a shitty friend besides. And the colors that close in on me whenever I think about this stuff are so, so pretty…

I check my phone for Tyler's dorm room number, which I got from Derek a while back. I never thought I'd actually use it, but here we are.

He's always been the most intimidating of Derek's friends. Quiet, but in a calculating way. Like he's always observing, always analyzing. I get the feeling that very little gets past him.

When I finally get to his door and knock, he looks mildly surprised to see me. "Phoebe? To what do I owe the pleasure?"

I swallow nervously. "Hey, Tyler. I was hoping we could talk for a bit. Do you have some time?"

He steps back in wordless invitation. I follow him inside.

His room is tidy, almost sparse. A few textbooks on the desk, a laptop, some clothes folded neatly on a chair. No posters, no clutter. I perch awkwardly on the edge of his desk chair while he sits comfortably on the bed, waiting expectantly.

I take a deep breath. Here goes nothing. "Well, I was thinking about the other day. With Derek and Marty. And I realized that I never really checked in with you about it. About what you thought, or if there was anything… specific you might want."

Tyler's expression doesn't change, but I see a flicker of interest in his eyes. "Specific how?"

"Like, if you had any fantasies. Something you've always wanted to try." I'm blushing now, I can feel it. "I want to make sure you're… satisfied."

Tyler leans back, considering me with that unnerving, analytical gaze of his. I feel like a bug under a microscope, pinned and exposed.

"Satisfied?" he says at last. "What’s the matter with you, lately?"

Why does everybody ask that? Is it really impossible for people to believe I could do something out of pure altruism? Just how selfish a person have I been all these years?

I shift in my seat, trying not to squirm under his scrutiny. "I just mean, you know… I want to be accommodating. Make sure your needs are met."

"Uh-huh," Tyler says, sounding unconvinced. "Well, either way, I’m not gonna complain about an offer of free sex."

He leans forward, elbows on his knees, that unsettling smile still in place. "I've always wanted to try anal. And I think you'd look damn good bent over and taking it up the ass. Back when you were still a standoffish bitch, I always thought a good assfuck would make you less… uppity."

My eyes widen and I feel a hot flush creep up my neck. Anal? I've never done that before. But if it’d make him happy…

"Sure! If that’s what you want…"

"It is," Tyler says, standing up from the bed and starting to unbutton his jeans. Just like that, straight to the point.

I swallow hard, my mouth suddenly dry. This is moving very fast. But I did say I would do whatever he wanted, didn't I? What kind of friend would I be if I backed out now?

"Um, before we start, there's one thing," I say hesitantly. "Would it be okay if I filmed this? I won't show your face or anything. It's just for, uh, personal use."

Tyler raises an eyebrow, looking intrigued. "Personal use, huh? Sure, why not. Go ahead and film."

I nod and pull out my phone with shaky hands. I open the camera app and prop it up on his desk, angling it towards the bed. I hit record and turn back to face Tyler.

He's already stripped down to his boxers, his erection straining against the fabric. He steps closer to me, reaching out to start unbuttoning my jeans. I let him undress me, my heart pounding in my chest as more and more of my skin is exposed.

Soon I'm standing there in just my bra and panties. Tyler looks me up and down appraisingly, like he's admiring a fine work of art. It makes me feel simultaneously embarrassed and… appreciated, I guess. Desired.

"Bend over the bed, Phoebe."

I do as he says, resting my elbows on the mattress and sticking my ass out towards him. I hear him rummage in his desk drawer and the click of a bottle cap. Then his hands are on me, roughly yanking my panties down to mid-thigh.

I gasp as I feel a cold, slick finger press against my asshole. Tyler rubs the lube around, getting me slippery, before slowly pushing his finger inside. The intrusion feels foreign, uncomfortable at first, but as he starts to gently thrust in and out, I begin to adjust.

"Relax into it. It’ll make it easier," he says, working his finger deeper. He adds more lube and a second finger. I whimper at the strange full sensation, my muscles fluttering around his probing digits.

He fingers me for a minute longer before withdrawing. I hear the rustle of his boxers hitting the floor and then the blunt head of his cock is pressing insistently against my ass.

"Ready?" he asks, though it doesn't really sound like a question.

I nod anyway, bracing myself. "Y-yeah. Go ahead."

He starts to push forward, the pressure increasing until all at once the head of his cock pops past the tight ring of muscle. I cry out at the sudden stretch and burn, my hands clutching at the bed sheets.

"Fuck, you're tight," Tyler says with a grunt. He grasps my hips firmly, holding me in place as he sinks in deeper, slowly sheathing his cock in my ass.

I try to relax like he told me, taking deep breaths and willing my muscles to unclench. Slowly, bit by bit, my body adjusts to the intrusion. The burn fades to a dull ache.

And inch by inch, he sinks deeper into me.

I gasp and moan when he finally bottoms out inside me, his hips flush against my ass. The stretch and fullness is incredible. I've never felt so invaded before.

"Good girl," Tyler says in a breathless voice. He starts to move then, drawing his hips back before thrusting forward again. I whimper at the way his cock seems to light up every nerve ending when he does that.

He sets a steady rhythm, his hips smacking against my ass with each deep thrust. The room fills with the obscene sounds of skin on skin.

If someone had told me that Tyler would be the one to claim my anal V-card, I would have laughed in that person’s face. Maybe punched them. No, definitely punched them.

But that was before. And now… now…

Tyler reaches around to rub quick circles on my clit. I cry out at the sudden stimulation, my pussy clenching around nothing. He keeps up the maddening pressure, pushing me closer to the edge.

It's too much stimulation, the double assault on my senses. Too much…

"I want to feel this ass milk my cock," he says roughly. "Come on Phoebe, be a good accommodating girl and cum on my dick."

He pinches my clit hard and that's all it takes. I convulse around him as I come, my ass clenching rhythmically around his pistoning cock. Tyler swears and his hips stutter before he's coming too, spilling his hot seed deep inside me.

He stays buried in me for a long moment, both of us breathing hard. Then slowly, carefully, he pulls out. I wince at the drag of his softening cock, feeling empty and raw.

We collapse onto the bed together, both panting for air. Tyler rolls off of me, whistling. I can feel his cum starting to leak out and run down my thighs. Wow, I’ve really taken everything he gave me and I made him feel incredible.

I’ve made him happy.

After a moment, I force myself to sit up, remembering the camera. I stop the recording and tuck my phone away before starting to gather my clothes. Tyler watches me from the bed

"Thanks for that," he says casually, as if we'd just played a friendly game of cards and not engaged in a depraved anal sex act. "Feel free to come by anytime if you want to be 'accommodating' again."

I blush and nod, not trusting myself to speak. I slip out of his room, my mind reeling. I can't believe I just did that. Letting Tyler fuck my ass, filming it, all because Sylvia dared me to. Because she wanted me to.

Because being a good friend means doing whatever she asks, no matter how degrading or humiliating. The mist swirls at the edges of my vision, soothing and numbing. Selflessness is a virtue. Pleasing others is its own reward.

So why do I feel so weird?

***

"Well?" Sylvia asks expectantly when I return, ushering me inside. "How did it go?"

I blush, handing over my phone. "See for yourself."

Sylvia takes the phone eagerly, a wicked grin spreading across her face as she starts to watch the first video. She’s sitting on the bed, one leg crossed over the other, while I sit on the floor, fidgeting nervously as I hear the unmistakable sounds of my mouth on Marty's cock.

"Holy shit, Phoebe," Sylvia says, eyes glued to the video. "You really did it. Right there in the library!"

I nod, my cheeks burning. Sylvia keeps watching, clearly in rapt fasccination. I see her shift in her seat, pressing her thighs together. Is she getting turned on by this?

"Damn, you took this really seriously," she says, sounding almost admiring. "Sucked him like a pro. God, this is so hot. Seeing you be such a slut for those guys. Knowing you did it because I told you to…"

I gulp, taking in Sylvia’s demeanor, her appearance. There’s a flush creeping up her neck, and she’s rubbing her thighs together so evidently that it looks like she wants to squirm out of her jeans. Most of all, there’s a glint in her eyes that I've never seen before.

"Syl, what-" I start, but she cuts me off by grabbing my hair and yanking me forward. I yelp in surprise as my face is suddenly pressed against the crotch of her jeans.

The video ends and she immediately moves on to the next one. Her eyes widen as she takes in the sight of me bent over, Tyler's cock disappearing into my ass.

"Fuck," she says. "He's really giving it to you. And you just… took it."

I squirm at the awe in her tone, but even more so, at the unexpected contact with her crotch. She’s my best friend. Why do I have my face between her thighs? It’s not appropriate.

But she pulled me here. That makes it appropriate.

Sylvia starts grinding my face against her crotch as she keeps watching the video. I can smell her arousal, even through the denim. Fuck, this is… I thought she was straight…?

The video reaches its inevitable conclusion and Sylvia sets the phone down with a shaky exhale. Her grip on my hair tightens as she begins to unbutton her jeans.

"I need you to take care of this," Sylvia says, and there’s an odd edge to her voice. "You've got me so fucking worked up, Pheebs. Be a good friend and help me out, yeah?"

I can hardly believe what's happening as Sylvia shoves her jeans and panties down, revealing her glistening pussy. She's so wet already, holy shit! The musky scent of her arousal fills my nostrils.

What the fuck is going on?

"Well? Get to work," Sylvia says, pushing my face between her legs.

This is so wrong, we're both straight, we shouldn't be doing this… But Sylvia needs me. She's painfully turned on from watching those videos of me servicing the guys. I’m responsible for that. A good friend would own up and try to do something about it, right?

That makes sense. I think…

I hesitate for just a second before parting my lips and extending my tongue. I tentatively lick upward, along the length of her lower lips, taking in the flavor and taste of her cunt juices. Can’t say it’s for me, I’m definitely not into girls, but that’s neither here nor there, is it?

As if to prove my point, Sylvia gives me an unequivocal sign that I’m successfully taking responsibility — she inhales sharply and tightens her grip on my hair.

I've never done this before, but I try to imitate what I've seen in porn, lapping and suckling more or less wherever, and occasionally flicking my tongue against her clit. Oh, straight or not, she really seems to like that.

My chin is slick with her arousal, the lower half of my face a complete mess as I slurp and suck at her cunt.

"Just for the record, I’m straight, but I enjoy getting head. That’s totally normal," she says, and I frown. Is she trying to justify herself? "I’d be a fool not to take advantage of your altruism."

I mean, of course, it tracks. I'm not gay. Neither is Sylvia. This is just… one friend helping another out. She’s turned on and I just so happen to be here to lend a hand. Or a tongue, as it were.

It doesn't have to mean anything more than that. Right?

But somehow, it doesn’t feel as convincing this time. Am I really having lesbian sex, for the first time in my life, just out of selflessness? Is that, like… a normal thing that people do?

As soon as I seriously interrogate that thought, the mist closes in.

It swirls thicker in my mind, pretty colors blotting out my doubts and hesitations. This is good. I'm being good. A true friend, putting Sylvia's needs above my own comfort.

Sylvia's grip tightens in my hair, her hips bucking up to grind against my mouth. "Fuck yes, Phoebe, just like that," she says. "Eat that pussy like a good little dyke."

The word makes me flinch internally, but I don't stop. I can't stop. I wonder if there’s a part of her that enjoys challenging me this way. After so many years being pushed around by me, now she’s got me here, with my face between her thighs, here on my hands and knees…

Funny, the colors seem to react to that, and for a moment my eyes roll back into my skull. Wants and needs… Hands and knees…

"You're loving this, aren't you?"

Her voice snaps me out of the sudden reverie. I look up at her, never letting my mouth leave her sex for a moment as she talks down to me. "Fucking lesbo slut. I always knew you were a freak underneath that tough exterior."

Sylvia grinds against my face, smearing her juices all over my cheeks and chin. "Fuck yes, eat that pussy," she groans. "You're a natural muff-diver, aren't you Pheebs?"

I’m really not, but it must be a good thing that I’m doing a decent job. I thrust my tongue inside her while rubbing quick circles on her clit with my thumb. Sylvia practically shudders at that.

"Gonna cum all over your pretty face," Sylvia gasps out. "Fuck, fuck, you little cunt-licker, you little dyke whore, I'm gonna… I'm… fuck!"

"Cumming!" she screams. "Fuck fuck fuuuuck!"

Her thighs clamp around my head like a vice as she trembles and convulses. I’m taken aback by how strong her thighs feel as they constrict me. I keep licking her through her climax, prolonging her pleasure as best I can, until finally she has to push me away from oversensitivity.

I sit back on my heels, my face a sticky mess, as Sylvia catches her breath. She looks down at me with flushed cheeks and bright eyes.

"Damn Pheebs, maybe you should be a dyke after all! You're pretty good at that," she says with a breathless laugh.

I blush hotly at her words, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. "I was just trying to help…"

"Awww, I know," Sylvia says, tilting her head in my direction. She reaches down and pats my cheek almost condescendingly. "That’s pretty much all you do these days. I’m starting to seriously see the appeal."

I register her words, but I’m focusing on my own reaction right now, because something’s different.

The rewarding feeling is there, sure, but it’s… muffled. I’m trying to process what’s just happened. My best friend just used my face as masturbatory aid, and I let her. More than that, I participated proactively.

But why? Why did I do that? The mist swirls in my mind, soothing colors trying to push away the doubts, whispering that I'm just being selfless, that Sylvia needed me and I was there for her. That's what friends do, right?

Friends go down on each other platonically all the time, don't they? It's not weird at all that my face is slick with my best friend's juices after she humped it to orgasm while calling me a dyke. Totally normal friend stuff.

But no. Something’s different this time. There’s this cold sense of unease inside me… like I’m just teetering on the edge of some epiphany. I feel like if I could only take another tiny step, I’d learn something very important, no, fundamental about myself. Something’s nagging at me…

Something…

I stand up on shaky legs, avoiding Sylvia's gaze as I feel my heartbeat speeding up. As if I’m scared of something, but what do I have to be scared of? "I should go," I say. "It's getting late."

Sylvia just smirks at me, still sprawled out on the bed with her jeans around her ankles. "Sure, Pheebs. Run along now. And don't forget, I might need your 'friendly' services again real soon."

I barely throw her another glance as I get out of the room. Whatever this feeling is, it’s not something I can talk about with her. Maybe I could have, before she caught me after the foursome, but since then…

Well, since then, a massive change has taken place in our friendship.

The polarity between us has fully reversed.